


Sticks & Stones (May Break My Bones, But I'm Dead So Who Cares)

by oh_so_shiny



Series: Cut & Run Zombie AU [2]
Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, C&R Zombie AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2762228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_so_shiny/pseuds/oh_so_shiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombie apocalypse is hell on a relationship.  Can a zombified Zane Garrett and a very human Ty Grady work things out, or will their differences pull them apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Cut (My Head Off) & Run (Away).

Zane was deeply engrossed in a Harlan Coben mystery when Ty emerged from the row house, preceded by a stirring rendition of the Battle Hymn of the Republic.  Zane glanced up from his spot on the ground, lips twitching as he took in the axe in one of Ty’s hands and an unzipped duffel bag in the other.  Ty’s K-bar was strapped to his leg and his firearm, a matte-black Glock, sat snugly in a holster around his waist.

“Going shopping?” Zane asked, turning the page.

“Yep. We’re running low on a few things, thought I’d poke around a bit.”

“Out of Cheetos already, huh?” 

Ty sputtered, and Zane hid a laugh in his book.  Ty’s love of the snack food bordered on legendary. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if Ty had raided abandoned convenience stores all over the city in his attempt to keep himself supplied.   

“Do I look like someone who would risk life and limb for cheese-covered corn puffs?” Ty demanded, gesturing at himself with a broad sweep of his axe as he stepped into the yard.

Setting aside the appeal of Cheetos for the moment, Zane lowered his mystery and drank in the view of Ty instead: all long graceful lines and hard muscles topped off by a heart-shaped face and short spiky brown hair that gave Ty a passing resemblance to a fluffy hedgehog.  If Zane’s heart was still able to beat, it would have been racing at the sight of Ty’s hazel eyes flashing gold and green in the sun.  Ty had a sharp, slender nose that he loved to nuzzle against Zane’s cheek and lips that turned into a perfect cupid’s bow when he smiled. 

God, Zane loved to make Ty smile.  “Absolutely.”

“Ok, you got me,” Ty replied, smirking, and the sight warmed Zane all over.  There hadn’t been enough to smile about lately.  “I live for the sweet taste of cheesy crunchy goodness,” Ty continued. He reached down with his free hand to give the zipper on the duffel a tug.  “What about you?  You need anything?” he asked, cursing under his breath when the zipper refused to move.

 _Just you_ , Zane was tempted to say, but instead he held up the book in his hand and shook his head, the links from his chain rattling slightly with the movement.  “Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure?  Wouldn’t be any trouble to pick something up for you.”  Ty’s expression turned thoughtful, and Zane sat up a little straighter. 

“Don’t you do it, Ty,” Zane said, pointing a finger in Ty’s direction. 

“Do what?” Ty asked far too innocently. 

“Whatever it is you’re planning to do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ty sniffed and crossed his arms as best he could while holding an axe.

“Yes, you do.  You have that look on your face.”

“What look?”

Zane sighed.  It was always a dangerous proposition when Ty started getting ideas, because they usually ended up with one of them getting shot at or worse.  While Zane didn’t particularly care what happened to himself at this point since he was already full of holes, and little aside from a headshot could do him any damage anyway, Ty was another matter. 

Ty was still very human and very vulnerable, for all Zane joked about him being ‘Tytanium’. 

“You have that look that says you’re planning something,” Zane said shortly, knowing he was right to be worried when Ty shot him a considering look. Ty’s tongue poked from between his teeth, and if that wasn’t a tell, Zane didn’t know what was.

“You’re paranoid.”

“And you’re deflecting.”

“I’m telling you there’s no plan!”

“Ty.”

“I never plan,” Ty continued.  “Planning takes the fun out of everything.”

Zane groaned, bringing a hand up to massage his face.  “Why do you do this to me?”

“I can take care of myself,” Ty insisted.

“You wouldn’t have to if you’d let me go with you,” Zane countered, dropping his hand to collar at his neck.    “It’s been weeks, but you still won’t get rid of this damned chain.”

“It’s a chain of love, just like the song says,” Ty protested.

“It’s a pain in my ass.”  Zane glared, feeling his eyes heat.  He had no doubt that they were starting to glow as red as the tips of the cigarettes he used to smoke.  “When are you going to start trusting me not to hurt you?” 

Ty grew deadly serious in an instant.  “I do trust you,” he said, stepping within several feet of Zane’s reading spot beside the doghouse. “Never doubt that.”

“Bullshit!”

“I swear I trust you with my life, Zane.  That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” Zane exploded.   “Talk to me so we can fix it!”

Ty’s hands clenched around his axe. 

“I can’t take much more of this,” Zane said to no one in particular.  “You’re killing me here, Ty,” he groaned, taken aback when Ty let out a strangled yell and flailed.

“I’m not killin’ you, Zane, even though I might want to.  Do you know why I’m not gonna kill you?  Because a zombie bit you and you got _yourself_ killed!” Ty snarled, punctuating every third word with a jab of his axe.  “You asshole!  You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw away the damn key!”

Zane blinked.  “Is that what this is all about?” he asked incredulously.  “ _Punishing_ me?”

“No!” Ty shot back.  He drew in a deep breath, expelling it slowly.  “Yes.  Maybe a bit?” he hedged.  His eyes darted longingly toward the padlocked gate in the back of the yard.

Zane gaped at him.  “And you don’t think this is a little excessive?” he demanded, waving a hand toward where the chain around his neck attached to the wall.

Ty gave the chain a mulish look and then glanced away.  “Look, can we talk about this when I get back?”

“I think we should talk about it now – where are you going?” Zane began, breaking off as Ty took a step in the direction of the padlocked gate.  They stared at each other for several seconds before Ty broke into a run.  “Don’t you dare run away and leave me chained up here, Grady!  We need to talk about this!  Ty!  Goddammit!”

 

**

 

Zane was still seething over an hour later. By then he’d given up all pretense of reading; no way was he going to be able to concentrate after Ty had dropped his little bombshell and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Zane supposed he was just grateful that Ty hadn’t left a note this time.

He could practically picture the damn thing: _‘I’m sorry. Zombie hordes are closing in and I need to go. Love you._ ’

Just the thought made Zane want to howl. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this, Grady,” Zane growled, tossing his book onto the ground. “We are gonna work this out, even if I have to sit on you to do it.”

Continuing to mutter under his breath, he reached for the heavy chain that connected his collar to the wall and selected one of the links partway down.  It had an improper weld that didn’t stand a chance against his new and improved zombie strength, and he used both hands to pull steadily at both ends until a large gap appeared.  Zane slipped the next link down the chain through the gap and grunted as most of the chain landed on the ground with a THUMP.

Then he made his way to a tiny shed in one corner of the backyard and, after careful consideration, pulled out a weed whacker.

The pursuit of yard work might have seemed strange under the circumstances, but physical activity, Zane had come to realize after years at the gym, was its own kind of therapy. There was something sublime about letting your mind take a backseat while your body did all the work. It was very zen.

And he desperately needed some goddamn zen, so after checking the tank for gas, Zane tugged on the chord and the machine roared to life.

He methodically worked his way down the paving stones that formed a walkway from the padlocked gate to the back door of the house, mowing down the dandelions and stalks of onion grass that grew in the cracks. It took a while for his muscles to loosen up – rigor mortis had done him no favors – but eventually he fell into a rhythmic swing. He hadn’t been able to sweat since his transformation, but there was no need. The sun felt wonderful against his cold skin.  

Nevertheless, Zane felt his mood souring the closer he got to the red monstrosity that served as his current place of residence.  Ty had built it with his own two hands.  If nothing else, it was marvelous feat of engineering, Zane supposed.  Ty had even installed a small light on the ceiling that turned on with a touch and an outlet for his laptop, with electricity supplied by a jury-rigged generator.  Cushions and throw pillows covered the floor and gave the inside a cheerful, cozy air.

Zane loathed it with every fiber of his undead being.  It’s very existence reminded him that he wasn’t welcome in Ty’s house, in Ty’s bed.  Zane blinked hard and let the weed whacker sputter out.

Those first days when the virus hit had been something out of a 50's horror movie with a lot less radiation sickness and gallons more spinal fluid involved.  Hordes of the undead had worked their way through the living population of Baltimore with terrifying speed.  Zane had eaten his fair share of brains, although even in the initial haze of conversion he’d never considered hurting Ty.  He’d never even been tempted.

As he’d recovered his wits (and his powers of speech), he’d tried to reassure Ty that he had nothing to fear.  He couldn’t fault Ty for not believing him initially.  He certainly didn’t blame him for the gunshots to his chest and abdomen. 

After repeated attempts at communication just resulted in more bullet holes, he’d changed tactics.  Instead of approaching Ty directly, he’d followed him from a distance, patrolling streets near the row house and taking out any zombies stupid enough to get within 100 yards of Ty’s fortifications.  Then, as Ty began to trust and allow him nearer, he’d protected him as he scavenged for supplies and watched his six.

When Ty had finally begun to talk to him again, he’d been ecstatic.  He’d nearly leapt for joy when Ty had suggested a ‘modified living arrangement’.

But here it was, weeks later, and Zane was still living in a doghouse in the yard with a chain around his neck while the man he loved barricaded himself indoors, and damned if he knew what to do about the situation.  There was nothing he could do about being a zombie.  He hadn’t meant to get bitten, but he had, and the fact remained that he was undeniably undead and, barring decapitation, likely to remain that way. 

Ty, on the other hand, was still very much alive.  Hell, Zane wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if Ty turned out to be the last living man on earth.  He had an uncanny instinct for survival that Zane had seen in action and could attest to its effectiveness.  It was frankly a little disturbing and all kinds of sexy.

The problem was that Ty took death personally, and Zane was dead.  Dead-ish.  Dead enough for Ty to be mad at him, anyway. 

As the irony of the situation struck him, Zane couldn’t help but laugh.  He was, quite literally, in the doghouse.  He was still laughing when the sound of voices very close to the inner perimeter made him drop the weed whacker.

“We should have called ahead.”

“With what, babe?  All the phone lines are dead.”

“Fuck.  Forgot about that.”

“I figured.  Watch for the pit at 3 o’clock.” 

“I see it.  Try not to clothesline yourself on the wire up ahead.”

“Don’t teach your mother to suck eggs.”

“Yes, Staff Sergeant.”

Zane might have been concerned except that there were very few people with the skillset to negotiate the trenches and traps that Ty had set up around the row house, and all of them had a standing invitation to drop by at any time.  Moreover, those voices were very familiar.  As they came closer, Zane felt his spirits lift. 

“Ho, the house!  Anyone there?” one of the voices finally called from the other side of the padlocked gate.

“Hold on a sec.”  Zane strode over to the gate, entering the combination with a practiced air.  The lock clicked and he reached to push the door open, pausing with his hand on the latch.  “What’s the secret password?”

“Let us in before we kick your ass, Garrett,” said the other voice in a thick Boston accent.

“That’ll work,” said Zane, swinging the gate open for Kelly Abbott and Nick O’Flaherty with a smile. 


	2. Chapter 2

The two members of Sidewinder made their way into the backyard with minimal fuss, and Zane closed and relocked the gate behind them. Kelly immediately grinned and opened his mouth.

"..."

The silence continued for nearly ten seconds before Nick nudged Kelly’s arm. “Babe, you gotta inhale, remember? No air, no sound.”

A look of consternation flew across Kelly’s face before he breathed deeply and let out a snort. “You’d think all the years of inhaling would prepare me for this.”

“I don’t think anyone could’ve prepared for this,” Zane said as Kelly’s snorts turned into a full-blown giggle fit. The man sounded like a car trying to turn over, and the sound of his laughter was remarkably infectious. “How are you, Kelly?” Zane chuckled.

“Fine when I’m not forgetting to breathe.” Kelly swiped at his blood-red eyes and stepped forward. “C’mere.”

Zane held out a hand to shake, shocked and beyond pleased when the man threw both arms around him. He knew Kelly was a touchy-feely person; he’d seen plenty of evidence of this in the small shoulder bumps, casual arm stroking and friendly embraces that Kelly dispensed to the members of Sidewinder with a blithe disregard for personal space. Still, he’d never really thought that easy affection would be aimed at himself. It was a humbling experience.

He glanced sidelong at Nick, surprised when the man winked at him.

"Garrett."  Nick waited for Kelly to relinquish his claim and then grabbed Zane’s arm, pulling him into a hug as well.

Zane squeezed Nick back hard, appreciating his solid, steady presence. "It’s damn good to see you, O’Flaherty," he affirmed.  After a moment, Nick drew back and Zane took the opportunity to look him over.  He looked rakish and as unflappable as ever, if slightly necrotic. 

It was ironic, really – they’d bonded over zombie flicks and texted each other during _The Walking Dead_ , and now they _were_ the walking dead. “Didn’t make it, huh?”

"Nope."

"I can’t believe it.  Your plan was a good one."

"It was a friggin’ great one!”

"So what happened?"

Nick scowled and flushed.  (Or at least, Zane thought he did.  He could think of no other reason for the dark, livid purple streaking across Nick’s nose and cheeks.)  After running a hand across his mouth in what Zane pegged as a nervous gesture, Nick finally sighed.  “Zombie fish.”

Zane blinked.  “Seriously?”

"I shit you not."

”He really isn’t,” Kelly chimed, wrapping an arm around Nick’s waist.  “One minute he has his line in the water and everything is fine, ‘Sure, Kels, I got this, go get those beers from the fridge while we coast through zombie apocalypse,’ and the next he’s screaming curses on the fly bridge.”

"Biggest swordfish I’ve ever seen jumps out of the water," Nick said, shaking his head.  "Zombie, of course.  Speared me right through the chest."

Zane’s mouth worked, but it took him a moment to say anything.  “Jesus.”

"You’re telling me," Kelly growled.  "I come running back up and there’s blood everywhere.  Nick’s on the ground with a giant fucking fish flopping around on top of him.  It was insane."

"I don’t remember much after a certain point," Nick said and hugged Kelly to him, the regret clear in his eyes.

"You were in shock," Kelly said.  "At one point you stopped yelling to ask me if you’d landed the fish."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Yeah, well, like I said.  Things got foggy after a while."  Nick paused.  "It was a nice fish, though."

"Except for the whole undead zombie thing," Kelly pointed out with a wry smile.

"Except for that," Nick acknowledged.  "The Doc told me later that the swordfish somehow worked its way loose and fell back into the water."

Nick sounded rather mournful about the fact, and Zane held back a grin.  “Sorry to hear it.”

"Eh, it was probably for the best."  Nick shrugged.  "Anyway, Doc stopped the bleeding and stitched me up, helped me to bed.  Next thing I know, I wake up dead."

"Dead in bed." Kelly made a face.  "Sounds like the most twisted Doctor Seuss book ever."

Zane had to agree.  “And what about you?” he said, glancing at Kelly.

To Zane’s surprise, Kelly shot Nick a sidelong glance and grinned as the redhead once again flushed that livid purple.   “Let me tell you a little something-“

Nick swiped a hand back across his mouth. “Kels…”

"-About hickies," Kelly continued.  The man pulled down his collar, and Zane had to laugh.  He couldn’t help himself.  Bruises the same color as Nick’s blushing face covered the column of Kelly’s neck.  One or two, if Zane wasn’t mistaken, bore tooth marks that broke the skin ever so slightly. “Turns out zombie hickies are not compatible with life.”

“You bit him?” Zane asked Nick.

“To be fair, I bit him first,” Kelly said with a grin, bluish tongue peeking out from between his teeth. “I didn’t realize he was a zombie when he woke up. I was just so happy he was ok that I jumped him.”

“TMI, babe.”

“Anywho, long story short, we both ended up as zombies. There was no real reason to head to the Grand Canyon after that, so we figured we’d just sail down the coast and fuck each others’ brains out. You know how it is.”

Zane raised an eyebrow. “So, being undead hasn’t slowed you guys down any?”

“There are some benefits to being a stiff,” Nick said with a smirk.

“It’s kind of funny, ‘cause Six used to say that Nicko would sleep with anything with a pulse. As it turns out, the pulse is optional,” Kelly said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Nick rolled his red eyes. “Everyone’s a comedian.”

“You love me,” Kelly sang and squeezed Nick’s waist.

“Yeah, I do,” Nick said, his smirk turning into a gentle smile. He squeezed Kelly back and refocused his attention on Zane. “So, where is Tyler? And I gotta ask about the collar. Did we walk in on some kinky shit? Fuck me...” Nick lowered his voice. “Please tell me he isn’t hiding somewhere in the house with a whip.”

Zane barked a laugh. If only. “Actually, Ty’s not here. He’s out gathering supplies.”

“Supplies?”

“Food, water, weaponry,” Zane sighed. “He goes out scavenging a few times a week.”

Nick and Kelly stared at him blankly for a while until what he said suddenly clicked, and then Kelly’s eyes widened. “Ty’s _alive_?” Kelly blurted.

“I’ll be damned. I don’t believe it,” Nick whispered. Then he shook his head and slowly began to grin. “No, I take that back. Of course he’s alive, this is Tyler we’re talking about! At the end of everything it’ll be him and the cockroaches.” He laughed, then followed up with, “No wonder you guys went all out with the perimeter fences and traps. I thought Ty was just being an asshole.”

Kelly let out a slow whistle. “That’s gotta be hard as hell on you guys, though – one of you alive and the other a zombie.”

 _You have no idea_ , Zane thought. “We’re still working out the logistics.”

Something in his voice must have sounded off, because Nick frowned and took a step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are things ok with you, Garrett?”

Zane tried to gather his thoughts into a reply. While he did, Nick glanced toward the back wall of the row house and did a double take. Zane could tell the exact moment Nick saw the doghouse, because Nick’s entire demeanor changed. The man’s back straightened, and he went eerily, utterly still.

Kelly stared at Nick and frowned. “Babe?” He followed Nick’s line of sight and gasped. “What the shit is this?”

If there was a way to put a positive spin on the situation, Zane couldn’t see it. He elected to keep silent as Nick slowly took in the doghouse on the lawn, complete with bowl labelled ‘ZANE’. He went completely still at the links of heavy chain partially lying on the ground and bolted to the wall beside it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned back to Zane. Nick’s red eyes narrowed in like laser sights on the collar around Zane’s throat, the links of chain that hung from it and banged against his chest. Zane took two steps backward only to stop when he realized that Kelly had moved to block his retreat.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Zane said after a moment. “I’ve got books and pillows.”

“Books and pillows,” Nick repeated flatly.

“Ty wired it for electricity, so I’ve got lights. I can plug in my laptop, although internet access is gone so…” Zane shrugged, “there’s not much point. Minesweeper’s fun.”

Nick blew out a breath. “He chained you up?”

“To be fair, I’m positive he knows I break free when he’s not around.”

“He _chained_ you up,” Nick repeated.

“It’s kind of a…trust exercise,” Zane explained. “The zombie thing had him spooked for a while.”

“A while,” Kelly said thoughtfully. “And what about now?”

Zane opened and closed his mouth. “We’re working on it,” he settled on finally. “Ty still needs time.”

“Ty needs an ass-kicking,” Nick said through gritted teeth.

“I think you’re right,” Kelly agreed grimly, the frown on his face seeming very out of place as he and Nick exchanged glances. Zane watched them with a sinking feeling in his belly.

“I think,” Kelly went on, “that we should sit down and chat until Ty gets home.”

“And then?”

Kelly’s lips pursed. “We’ll see.”

 


End file.
